


Escape

by dovingbird



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Aftercare, Consensual use of the word 'slut', FaceFucking, M/M, gagging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-16
Updated: 2016-12-16
Packaged: 2018-09-09 00:31:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8868919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dovingbird/pseuds/dovingbird
Summary: A filled commission. Having your name attached to one of the busiest conventions in Austin isn't exactly relaxing. Joel's more than happy to help Burnie take the edge off of his stress.





	

“Oh! Mr. Heyman?”  
  
Joel turns his head, wrinkling his brow. There’s already been an exceptionally small girl following him around all day trying to coax him into eating and drinking water, which he’s skillfully deflected every single time – she’s clearly a new guardian – but now there’s a taller twink of a thing in the same shirt she’s wearing calling his name. “Uh?” Joel asks articulately, because he’s already given most of his energy at the panels he’s had today. Would absolutely be better to just go and crash somewhere, but that would be admitting defeat to humanity at large, and that’s, no, that’s not a thing.  
  
Said twink comes closer with a bright smile and Joel’s half tempted to get a pen ready, but then he’s opening his mouth again. “Mr. Burns is asking for you.”  
  
Oh, well. Okay. Joel immediately changes course.  
  
“He says he’s, uh...” As Joel breezes past the twink, Joel becomes aware of both of the guardians following him like, like buzzing bees, and he should maybe be a little bothered by their sudden chatter, but he’s, the fact remains that Joel’s spent an inordinate amount of time in the entertainment business, and PA’s and runners are, they’re the easiest things to block out in the history of the world, so.  
  
Joel’s guardian perks up. “M-maybe you should eat-”  
  
“You can follow me, if you want, Mr. Heyman,” the twink interrupts. “I can take you to him.”  
  
“Hotel room,” Joel says distantly, and when neither of them respond he stops in the middle of the convention floor and looks at the twink, quirking a brow. “Right?”  
  
“Uh.” The twink blinks. “Yeah.”  
  
“Cool.” Joel starts off again, blazing through the crowd like a rocket, eyes deadset on the nearest staircase with his heart fluttering in his chest. His two tails follow him, obviously, one of them deadset on not letting him out of her sight, the other determined to deliver his package – Joel almost laughs at his own thought – to the goal in mind.  
  
There’s really no, no reason to bother, though, not when Joel’s already pretty sure he knows what’s coming.  
  
Conventions are stressful shit, and RTX is no different. There’s next to no wiggle room for those in charge of it, of the company, of anything, and if anyone drops the ball even once there’s dominoes that’re gonna fall and, and take everybody else down. Burnie in particular has trouble sleeping at these things and Joel knows it. While Joel has insomnia just, has it absolutely riddled through his blood, Burnie doesn’t know how to handle it well.  
  
And that’s where Joel comes in.  
  
Joel takes the stairs two at a time, hears the squeak of his guardian somewhere near the bottom of the stairs when she almost trips, but by the time he gets to the floor he needs the twink is right behind him, holding the door for Joel’s guardian as she hurries to catch up. And there, right in front of his hotel room, is Burnie.  
  
They lock eyes and Joel forgets how to breathe.  
  
“Mr. Burns!” the twink calls cheerfully. “I found him!”  
  
“You sure did,” Burnie says from where he’s gently holding his door open. He doesn’t look away from Joel, and Joel doesn’t mean to take longer steps in response, covering the floor in seconds, but he can’t help it. “Thanks, man.” He snags Joel by the wrist and steps back in the same breath. “Take the night off, see you tomorrow!”  
  
“But-”  
  
The door shuts and Joel’s slammed against it immediately, the breath getting crushed out of him by Burnie’s body. The kiss is more an assault than anything else, sharp and hot and heavy, and Joel moans as he gets his fingers in Burnie’s curls and pulls him in even closer. Burnie pulls out of the kiss with a gasp, digging his teeth into Joel’s neck right above his t-shirt, and Joel goes limp against the door, only Burnie’s weight holding him there.  
  
“Clothes off,” Burnie growls against Joel’s skin.  
  
“Y-yeah,” Joel whispers back, because there’s fucking nothing better than feeling Burnie’s skin on his.  
  
It’s an awkward dance, trying to get his shirt off when Burnie is pressing in on him like this, his thick hands getting on Joel’s bare waist the second that it’s revealed, and Joel shivers at his cool touch. “Faster,” Burnie murmurs.  
  
“Y-your hands, they’re cold,” Joel complains. He bucks his chest to push Burnie back an inch, just enough to get the shirt over his head, and then Burnie’s there again, squeezing the air right out of him, fuck, _fuck._  
  
“I’m cold everywhere,” Burnie murmurs, dragging the tip of his nose up Joel’s neck, and Joel whimpers, his shaky hands going for his own belt. “Think you can warm me?”  
  
“W-what am I, your space heater?” Joel asks over the clinking of his belt.  
  
Burnie lifts his head, nose to nose with Joel, and Joel’s fingers trip over themselves. “You know, you’re damn lucky you’ve got a pretty mouth,” Burnie murmurs. He trails his thumb over Joel’s bottom lip. “The shit you say, just...”  
  
Joel wraps his lips around Burnie’s thumb, sucks it into his mouth, and the sharp intake of Burnie’s breath is enough to make Joel realize he’s painfully hard in his jeans.  
  
Joel’d be lying if he said he didn’t love Burnie like this, rough and desperate and needy. He’s seen a million sides of Burnie over the past twenty years, some soft, some angry, some difficult, but this right here, when he’s sharp around the edges and trusting that Joel can take it, that Joel _wants_ to take it, is one of Joel’s favorites.  
  
And goddamn if it doesn’t make Joel feel powerful to know that Joel’s the only one Burnie will come to with this.  
  
Joel runs the tips of his teeth over Burnie’s thumb in a quick tease and Burnie pulls his thumb back immediately. “Maybe,” Joel says, swallows, then tries again. “Maybe if y-you found a way to, to shut me up...”  
  
Burnie holds his gaze with laser focus. He reaches forward to cup Joel’s face with both hands, icy against Joel’s flushed cheeks, and leans in to touch their foreheads together. It’s a quick moment, but it threatens to take Joel’s breath away, especially when Burnie brushes their noses together. “Yeah?” Burnie asks on a whisper, his hot breath tickling Joel’s lips. “That what you want, you little slut?”  
  
The word hits Joel with a thrum of energy and heat right in his gut, visceral, palpable. There’s a flash of embarrassment at all of the fucking shit Burnie’s seen Joel do with the other founders, things that Burnie’s _asked_ him to do with them, and right behind it a slow adrenalized tingle travels all the way down his spine in response. “Yeah,” Joel whispers back, eyelashes fluttering.  
  
“Then you know what I want you to do,” Burnie says. He reaches between them to shove Joel’s pants and boxer briefs down in one fell swoop, naked for Burnie’s perusal, and then he tucks his hand against the small of Joel’s back. “C’mon, Heyman, keep up.”  
  
Joel stumbles a little as Burnie moves forward, barely stepping out of his pants before Burnie’s impatiently pulling him along. It feels like a series of vertigo-fueled experiences, how he trips forward, how Burnie swings him around, how he bounces on the mattress three times before he spots the way that Burnie’s getting his own pants open. He pushes them down just enough to free his already hard cock, every bit of clothing still on from his glasses to his shoes, and Joel flicks his tongue over his lips and feels that same flush creep over his skin. Burnie’s here to use Joel and Joel’s here to be used and that’s how it’s going to go.  
  
Joel already slouches enough, and that means that when Burnie gets his hand in Joel’s hair, his other hand pumping his cock until a drop of precum swells on the head, Burnie only has to jerk Joel down an inch or so until he’s at cock level.  
  
Joel doesn’t realize his mouth’s already dropped open until Burnie chuckles and scratches his nails over Joel’s scalp. “Look at you,” he murmurs, “already opening up for me, huh? You want me to fuck your face that bad?”  
  
“Fuck yeah,” Joel whispers, dragging his eyes up to meet Burnie’s. Every panel that he sat through, every signing that he did, every autograph he made unbidden on the convention floor, all of it was tinged with a haze, wondering when Burnie was going to call for him, when Burnie would need him. When he could help.  
  
“Good,” Burnie says, and there’s a thrum of pleasure that tickles over Joel’s scalp. Burnie moves his hips forward, drags the head of his cock over Joel’s lips, and Joel eagerly licks up the precum just before Burnie eases inside of his mouth. “God, you’re so fucking good for me.”  
  
Joel keeps his eyes on Burnie’s face as Burnie starts rolling his hips forward. He lets Joel get his cock nice and slick with his tongue, make it all the easier, but there’s barely seconds before Burnie fists his hand in Joel’s hair and picks up his pace. And fuck, it’s absolutely incredible to watch, to see the stressed wrinkles on Burnie’s face smooth out, to see his jaw loosen its tension so he can breathe out a low moan, to see his shoulders relax just a hair. Burnie’s eyes fall shut as he fucks into Joel’s face and Joel devours him with his own gaze.  
  
There’s something intoxicating about the weight of a cock on his tongue, something that makes the tension ooze out of his shoulders just as well, and Joel sags forward and groans when he feels Burnie’s hand tighten in his hair to hold him in place. God, fuck, he just, Joel wants to stay connected, wants to eat up every bit of vulnerability that Burnie’s giving him, but he, _fuck,_ the ache of his scalp, the stretch of his mouth, and the steady focus it takes to keep the back of his mouth wide open, it’s just, he can’t…  
  
It’s a low haze that comes over him this time, not as striking as when he drops completely away, just a gentle cottony caress that stretches over his brain. Joel’s eyelids go a bit heavy, his attention slips, and Burnie gives a sharp buck that has Joel gagging, his throat closing down around Burnie’s cock.  
  
Burnie’s eyes fly open. “Hey,” Burnie murmurs. “C’mon, you’re okay, stay with me.”  
  
Fuck, the temptation to pull off is so fucking much. Joel reaches and tightens his hands around Burnie’s waist in preparation to tap out, to pull away in case he, his body, it, but he shuts his eyes tightly, fights to focus on lifting his soft palate, opening his throat, letting, letting…  
  
“Fuck!” Burnie holds Joel in place, cock pressing suffocatingly into Joel’s throat, and Joel’s eyes roll back in his head as he feels Burnie come. “Holy shit, Joel, _fuck._ ”  
  
The haze creeps in further, wrapping around how Joel can’t breathe, how Joel’s gag reflex triggers as Burnie slowly pulls out of his mouth, how Joel leans forward and feels Burnie right there with him, hands on his shoulders, forehead touching his.  
  
“You okay?” Burnie asks. “You, uh, you need the trash can, or-”  
  
“I’m good,” Joel croaks. “Jesus.”  
  
“Sorry,” Burnie says with a chuckle. “I-I got a little-”  
  
“Don’t you dare fucking apologize.” Joel scrubs his face with his hands. “That, no, yeah, good, good stuff.”  
  
“Good,” Burnie echoes. Burnie coaxes Joel onto the bed, kicking his pants off as they go, and touches a hand to Joel’s belly, brushing over the soft hairs near his cock. “Do you…?”  
  
“Absolutely not,” Joel says wearily. “No, it’s, long day. Nap.”  
  
“Okay,” Burnie says, another quiet laugh highlighting his words. He reaches over to turn off the bedside lamp while Joel turns the covers down and they sink into a long moment of silence. “...thank you.”  
  
“Thank _you,_ ” Joel says. “I, there, I had a headache for, for three days, but I-I think it’s gone.”  
  
“My cock cured it?” Burnie asks with a grin that Joel bets brings out the wrinkles at the edge of his eyes.  
  
“Well, let’s, no, let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Burns,” Joel says. He buries his face in Burnie’s chest and tries to hide a dimpling grin of his own. It, it’s not good for Burnie to get too big of a head, you see.


End file.
